Another breakup. This time it was an old school friend who rolled back into town. Her husband had a fling with someone he met on a conference. I’m always baffled by men who feel the need to admit their infidelities whilst at conferences. On the scale of infidelity the fling at conference is low down in the foothills (falling in love and eloping with your wife’s sister being the summit). I know from my perspective it wouldn’t necessarily be a deal breaker, but it would dent things irretrievably, so it’s something I would rather not know about. So he blurted it out. They decided to work through it, give it a go. Decided to work on their relationship. The sound of death. Once a marriage is being worked on it’s finished.
These break ups are becoming more and more frequent. The hand grenade rolled under the family unit. Everyone moves into smaller houses. Two decades of equity is split and devoured by lawyers and then the second tier bottom feeders get to work. The estate agents, the solicitors all chipping away so everyone walks away poor.
But there’s no new ground here. We all know this story. The new game is guessing who’s next. The friend who loses weight and starts wearing wacky waistcoats. The former housewife getting a new executive job now that the kids are in full time education who travels a lot. The guy you know who is still very keen on strip clubs. The one who always gets blind drunk on those girls weekends away and dances too closely with the 25 year olds. The signs are everywhere. Who’s going to be next to crack?
It’s all bullshit of course. We’re all on a personal journey, finding our way, trying things out. There is only really one fire way to determine if a couple is solid and it sits by the Aga waiting for them to come home. Dogs rarely get mentioned in custody battles because people with dogs don’t get divorced.
theories on the cusp of middle age.